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However, she really didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. It was just possible that, having told him she was alone in the house, he might think she was expecting him to come on to her. So…it might be as well to hit that nail hard on the head straight away.
‘Yes, the housekeeper and her husband, Doris and Ted Lambert, are away for the weekend,’ Gina said as he handed her a glass of wine. ‘They’ve looked after the house—and my grandfather—for the last twenty years. Quite honestly,’ she added with a quick grin, ‘I don’t know what we’d do without them.’
‘Ah, yes, I see.’
‘However…Doris always lays on one of her friends in the village to come in and clean when she’s away. And since her friend is apt to sing hymns at the top of her voice, early in the morning, I’ve given you a bedroom suite in the far wing of the house,’ Gina told him, adding casually, ‘As far away from the main block and the other bedrooms as possible.’
‘I see. All is explained,’ he murmured enigmatically, leaving her to worry about whether she’d been too obvious as he came over to sit down on the stone bench beside her. ‘But it must be a problem having no cook in the kitchen?’
‘Nonsense!’ Gina laughed nervously, wishing that he had chosen to sit on one of the comfortable garden chairs instead. Unfortunately, there was no getting away from the fact that she was finding the close proximity of this man distinctly disturbing.
‘I’m perfectly capable of cooking a meal,’ she told him briskly. ‘Good wine and good food are natural partners. Which is why I spent a year doing a cordon bleu course in Paris, when I left school. However, since I didn’t have much warning of your arrival today, I’ve booked a table for dinner at one of the local restaurants,’ she added, before rising to her feet and suggesting that he might like to be shown to his room.
Luckily, the situation wasn’t proving to be nearly so awkward as she had feared, Gina told herself some hours later, as she leaned back in her chair, gazing around the crowded restaurant.
In fact, he appeared to approve of her very plain, black silk sleeveless dress, and the simple row of pearls which had belonged to her mother. And apart from a slight altercation when Antonio had adamantly insisted on them leaving the house in his car—‘I have never allowed myself to be driven by a woman—and I have no intention of doing so now!’—he was proving to be the perfect guest.
He’d also been charmed by the sight of the ivy-covered restaurant situated at the end of a narrow country lane, nodding with satisfaction when they’d been shown to a secluded table in the beautifully decorated dining room. Which clearly gave them some degree of privacy, and the opportunity of holding a conversation without being deafened by the chattering noise of the other diners.
‘I’d forgotten that it can be quite so noisy at times,’ she’d murmured apologetically, but he’d brushed her words aside.
‘That, my dear Gina, is merely the sign of a good restaurant,’ he’d told her, before turning his attention to the wine list.
Fortunately he’d approved of the wine list—always a tricky point when taking those in the trade out to dinner!—and there’d been some considerable discussion with the attentive head waiter over exactly what to drink with their choice of cold watercress soup and chicken in a tarragon sauce.
Not only had the wine and food proved to be delicious, but she’d found herself gradually relaxing and enjoying Antonio’s company: laughing at his wry, amusing description of the total chaos he’d discovered in the Bodega when taking over the reins of the family company from his uncle Emilio. ‘I’m not saying that the invoices were still being written with a quill pen.’ He’d grinned. ‘But the ancient telephone switchboard had clearly not been changed since the days of Alexander Graham Bell!’
And, of course, she’d been delighted to hear the up-to-date news of her old friend—his younger sister, Roxana, whom she’d met when the Spanish girl had spent a year at school in London to brush up her English.
Drawn together by the fact that they were both orphans—Roxana’s parents having also been killed in a car accident when she was only a small child—they’d not only become firm friends, but had spent long holidays at each other’s homes. Which was precisely how she’d first come to meet Antonio, Gina reminded herself, before quickly making a determined effort to banish the past from her mind.
‘She was always an amusing girl, no?’ Antonio had said with a broad smile, before explaining that his young sister, to the surprise of the whole family, had suddenly decided to take up a career in show business and was now appearing in one of the daily soap operas on Spanish television.
‘Good heavens!’ Gina had exclaimed, her smile widening when he’d informed her that those were exactly the same words used by his elderly grandmother on first seeing Roxana on TV. She’d been really pleased to hear that his old grandmother, Señora Ramirez, of whom she had fond memories, was still very much alive and ruling the roost at the family home in Jerez—where, it seemed, Antonio was also now based, since taking over the company.
Indeed, from what Antonio had said, it seemed as if he was going to have his work cut out, trying to drag the family wine business into the twenty-first century. And, thinking about some of the problems which he’d outlined, such as the need to make sure all his aged relatives continued receiving a reasonable income, Gina suddenly realised that it couldn’t have been much fun suddenly finding himself pitchforked into taking on the family responsibilities.
‘Do you have any regrets about having been forced to give up your career in the law?’ she’d asked. ‘The life of a wine maker in Jerez must be very different to that of a hot-shot lawyer in Madrid.’
‘I always knew that I would have to, at some point in my life, take over the family business, but my uncle was always very much of an autocrat,’ Antonio had said, with a shrug of his broad shoulders. ‘Which was why I decided to carve out a career of my own, until such time as my uncle Emilio decided to hand over the reins. And it would seem that you, too, are likely to be faced with very much the same sort of situation, if and when your grandfather decides to retire,’ he’d added with a smile.
However, she’d merely given a slight shrug of her own, before determinedly changing the subject by asking him his opinion of last year’s wines from the famous Rioja region in the north of Spain.
Despite doing her best to try and keep all conversation to their mutual business interest, Gina had found it increasingly difficult to harden her heart against his warm, obvious charm.
She must be careful, she warned herself now, as she leaned back in her seat to allow the waiter to clear away their plates. Not only did Antonio seem to have bowled over the restaurant’s staff with his engagingly friendly smile, but she was also clearly vulnerable. And she knew, only too well, just how this formidable man’s dark, almost irresistible attraction could affect her fragile emotions.
So, keep it light…light and friendly, she lectured herself sternly. Because, the last, the very last thing she wanted was any discussion about their past relationship.
Although to be fair to Antonio, she reminded herself, by the time he was driving them back home to Bradgate Manor, he’d made absolutely no reference to what had happened between them years ago.
‘It has been a very pleasant evening, Gina,’ he said, as he brought the car to a halt outside her home. He got out of the car and came around to open the passenger door. ‘Quite surprisingly so, in fact,’ he added, putting a hand on her arm as they walked towards the front door.
‘Oh…er…really?’ she muttered breathlessly, inwardly cursing her fumbling fingers, which seemed all over the place as she awkwardly tried to fit the key into the lock.
‘Here—let me do that for you,’ he said, his lips twitching with laughter, taking the keys from her hand and swiftly unlocking the door.
‘Yes…’ he continued as they entered the hall. ‘I must admit to having felt some qualms about meeting you again, after all these years. It might have been just…well, shall we say that it might have been just a little awkward?’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she retorted, furious with herself for sounding so pathetically feeble, but not feeling capable of coping with this increasingly difficult situation.
‘Ah, Gina! Did you really forget all about me?’ he murmured, his tall figure standing close beside her now, at the foot of the staircase. ‘I am very sorry to hear that I meant so little to you.’
Forget him? I should have been so lucky!
‘No, well…the fact is…whatever happened…if anything did happen…a long time ago…and I really don’t think…’ she babbled incoherently, desperately wishing that she could suddenly sink through a hole in the floor and disappear safely from sight.
Unfortunately, while she had no trouble forming the words in her head, she was managing to sound an awful fool when trying to articulate them out loud. And what seemed to be making the problem ten times worse was the fact that he was now standing so close to her.
‘What I mean,’ she said, pulling herself together with some difficulty and attempting to sound a lot more confident than she felt, ‘is that whatever happened in the past is now—certainly as far as I’m concerned—dead and gone. To be truthful,’ she added, with as much dignity as she could muster, ‘I was a very young, silly girl at the time. And no one with any sense would wish to remember such a humiliating experience. So, I would be grateful if you would kindly not refer to the matter ever again.’
Antonio regarded her silently for a moment, before giving a brief shrug of his shoulders.
‘I will, of course, respect your decision,’ he murmured. ‘However…I must tell you that I still have some very fond memories of that time in Spain.’
Taking hold of her hand, he lifted it slowly to his lips. ‘Very fond memories, indeed,’ he added, pressing his soft lips to her trembling fingers once again, before letting go of her hand and turning to walk away across the hall.
Gazing at the tall figure lithely mounting the staircase towards his room on the far side of the house, Gina found her mind in a complete turmoil. And even when lying in her own bed, later that night, wide awake and unable to seek refuge in sleep, she could still hear his words pounding through her brain.
Despite having tossed and turned restlessly throughout the night, Gina awoke the next morning feeling surprisingly bright and cheerful.
Which must be due to the fact that there’d been no return of that awful nightmare, she assured herself. Although, to be honest, having firmly told Antonio that she was not prepared to discuss the past, in any shape or form, had probably also contributed to her feeling of well-being.
Not to mention the important fact that he really didn’t seem to regard their previous relationship in quite the same embarrassing light as she did.
So it was not surprising that, being relieved of the burden which she’d carried for so long, over the eight past years, she should now be feeling quite euphoric. Besides, the sun was shining. It was a lovely, fresh June morning. And, having showered, washed and blow-dried her hair, before slipping on a short-sleeved white blouse and tucking it inside the waistband of her straight, navy blue linen skirt, Gina told herself that it was no wonder she felt remarkably cheerful.
Unfortunately, as happened so often in life, the happy frame of mind in which she’d greeted the new day was fast disappearing by the time she and Antonio returned to the office, after a brief lunch in a local pub.
After a promising start—with Antonio appearing downstairs promptly for breakfast that morning and confirming that he’d spent a comfortable night before driving them both in his car to the office—things had promptly begun to go downhill from then on.
With two of her staff away—one on holiday and the other nursing a sick husband—Gina had known that she was likely to be short-staffed. But when Antonio had commandeered another two workers—‘I’m sorry, querida,’ he’d said, almost idly running a finger down her soft cheek, ‘but I really must locate that missing consignment’—she’d found herself being forced to work flat out all morning.
The situation had not been helped, it must be said, by the strange difficulty she had in concentrating on anything, his casual Spanish endearment and the touch of his finger on her face having left her feeling extraordinarily jumpy and strung up with nervous tension.
‘I told both Grandpa and the manager at our office in Pall Mall that we really did not have that consignment of yours on our premises,’ she told Antonio now, as they returned to the office after lunch. ‘As you’ve seen for yourself, it simply isn’t here.’
‘You would appear to be quite correct,’ he agreed with a heavy sigh. ‘However, while there’s no trace of the shipment in those bills of lading, I think that I must check through your warehouse and cellars myself, just to make certain that there’s no possibility of a mistake.’
Gina shrugged her slim shoulders. ‘I suppose that’s sensible,’ she commented. ‘But I’m afraid you can’t have those two young men who were helping you this morning. There’s a whole mass of cases which need delivering around the town, and I can’t afford to take them off duty and place them at your disposal.’
‘Fair enough. However, there’s no reason why you can’t show me around the cellars, is there?’
‘No, of course not,’ she agreed, painfully aware of the considerable amount of work already piling up on her own desk. Still, it would be a bonus to prove—if only to that awful manager in London—that there’d been no mismanagement in her branch, she told herself, collecting the keys from a drawer in her desk before leading him through the large old warehouse and down into the underground cellars.
This definitely wasn’t her favourite sort of place, Gina thought, glancing around the large, dark and dank cavernous space, located well below the level of the road above them.
With only a few shafts of daylight slanting in from the small windows set high up on the wall, this place was definitely very spooky. And all those huge cobwebs didn’t help, either! Glancing up at what seemed to be yards of dusty, tattered lace curtains hanging from the ceiling, she figured there must be a whole army of spiders spending their days spinning away like crazy. Ugh! Quite frankly, the sooner she was out of here, the happier she’d be!
‘No…as far as I can see there is no trace of my missing shipment down here,’ Antonio said, brushing the dust and cobwebs from his hands and looking about him as he approached her through an aisle of heavy cardboard cases. ‘Although, you certainly seem to have some interesting old wines stored down here,’ he added, coming to a halt beside her.
‘Yes. I think that some of them have been here since my great-great-grandfather’s day,’ she muttered, suddenly feeling rather peculiar.
Maybe it had something to do with the strange tones and shades of light down here in the cellar. Or the feeling of being dwarfed beneath the large stone columns supporting the roof, way above their heads. But, while he hadn’t said anything, and wasn’t even touching her, the physical sensations which she’d always associated with Antonio whenever she was in close proximity to his tall figure had suddenly returned with a vengeance. Her pulse felt as if it was racing out of control, and she could feel a deep flush spreading over her skin—an extraordinary sensation of white heat surging through her body.
The huge, vaulted room seemed to be shrinking about them, their two still figures caught in a time warp—one in which she was feeling increasingly weak and light-headed. The strained silence seemed to last for ever as she stared up into his gleaming dark eyes—a silence beating loudly on her eardrums as her mind was filled with disturbing, sensually erotic memories of the last time she’d found herself clasped in his arms.
As he took another slow step towards her nervous, trembling figure, she could feel her heart beginning to pound like a heavy drum, the thudding against her ribs producing a swift surge of adrenaline throughout her body and leaving her breathless, as though she’d just taken part in a hard-fought race.
Her mouth was suddenly feeling dry with a strange mixture of fear and tension. However, as she unconsciously moistened her lips with her tongue, he seemed to stiffen, his low, tersely muttered oaths suddenly cutting into the claustrophobic and highly oppressive silence.
‘Oh…um…just look at the time…I really must get back to the office…’ she gabbled, quickly spinning around on her heels and almost running towards the stairs leading out of the cellars, frantically anxious to get back to the normal, prosaic light of day. And well away from the highly disturbing Antonio Ramirez.
Walking swiftly towards her office, she almost bumped into her secretary, coming down the corridor towards her and brandishing a piece of paper in her hand.
‘I’ve just had a fax from our Bristol office, Miss Brandon,’ the girl said breathlessly, before raising her eyes past Gina’s shoulders as Antonio approached them.
‘They’ve found your missing shipment of wine in Bristol, Señor Ramirez,’ she told him with a wide, beaming smile.
‘Bueno.’ He grinned, taking the paper from her hands and quickly glancing down at the information it contained. ‘This is very satisfactory,’ he told the girl, giving her a warm smile of approval which clearly left her almost reeling with delight.
The man uses his charm like a weapon! Gina thought grimly, continuing on into her office and throwing herself down into the chair behind her desk in a thoroughly bad temper.
Yes, of course she was pleased that Antonio had at last found his precious shipment of wine. But, quite honestly, it was absolutely disgusting the way he only had to smile at a woman and she practically fell over backwards with excitement. Well! He needn’t think that she was prepared to behave in such a stupid fashion!
No, indeed! a small inner voice pointed out with heavy sarcasm. After all, now that Antonio has found his precious shipment of wine, you’re going to be thrilled to bits to see the last of him—aren’t you?
Oh—shut up! she told herself impatiently, well aware that she was not looking forward to his departure. After all it had taken her ages to recover from her last meeting with this man. Now with her emotions all over the place she had a horrid feeling that it would be a long, long time before she got over this recent encounter.
Hey! Where’s your pride, girl? she asked herself. There’s no way you’re going to let him guess just what a devastating effect he’s having on you. Right?
Damn right! She agreed firmly, before standing up, nervously brushing down her skirt and preparing to face the world—and Antonio—with a confident and happy smile.
The discovery that the wine was safely tucked away in the cellars in Bristol, and was being immediately transported down to Brandon’s headquarters in Pall Mall, seemed to have acted as a tonic as far as the staff of the Ipswich branch were concerned. And certainly Antonio himself seemed remarkably content, humming cheerfully under his breath as, in the late afternoon, he drove her back to Bradgate Manor.
For her part, Gina didn’t feel exactly like breaking into song. In fact, she was feeling highly depressed about the whole business. Although she was doing her best to keep that damned happy smile firmly pinned to her lips.
Still…she wouldn’t have to keep up the façade for very long. Just as soon as he’d collected his luggage Antonio would undoubtedly be off back down to London, impatient to catch a flight back to Spain.
‘Did you really spend a year doing a cookery course in Paris?’ Antonio said, breaking the silence as he brought the car to a halt outside the house.
‘Yes…yes I did,’ she confirmed, wondering why he should be interested as they walked across the gravelled forecourt and up the steps to the front door.
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